Newstead Abbey: Lord Byron

Henry II built the Priory As penance for the murdering of Becket Black Friars walked the flags of this Abbey Henry VIII by act of law, retook it Selling the grounds and buildings to a Byron A wild race, a mix of wit and merit Till Mad Jack's son, a bard of fire and iron Installed himself, with tortoise, wolf and bear Club footed, with the courage of a lion Drank claret from a monk's skull, which he'd share With guests tricked out as monks in midnight black Folk said he hosted orgies in his lair He used the ancient hall for pistol shooting The dining room for shuttlecock and fencing Souls of dead monks, the Abbey's sooty rooks Croak hoarsely. Here the Goblin Friar walks And a white lady flits between the nooks Outside, a splay tailed peacock preens and squawks The Abbey's weathered earthquake, civil war Today it opens up with tours and talks Japanese maples, oaks, flowers from afar Rockery, wells, swan, geese, the Eagle pool Door to a past that's always left ajar The River Leen flows sweetly, soft and cool Here, Byron's English half showed its persona A complex mix of passion and misrule The thistle and the rose, twinned in one stem Most controversial, talented of men